My Search for Warren Harding - Robert Plunket
Tax included.
Eliot Weiner – snob, shameless opportunist, Morris dancing-obsessive – is on a mission.
He has got wind of a trunk of bawdy love letters by Warren Harding, ‘the shallowest President in history’, now guarded by his octogenarian mistress on her crumbling Hollywood Hills estate. They could reignite his failing academic career – and there’s no depth to which he won’t stoop, no preposterous scheme he won’t undertake, to get at them.
